


Bonds of Brotherhood

by Aurora077



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Brotherhood, Brothers, Gen, Harry Potter References, Kreacher, Regulus Black - Freeform, sirius black - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 08:44:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12477752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora077/pseuds/Aurora077
Summary: Sirius Black wakes up in a familiar, yet much loathed place. But is it as familiar as he seems to think? His brother’s face staring back at him tells him the answer is both yes and no. He also gets some answers for questions he didn’t even know he had.





	Bonds of Brotherhood

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Everything you recognise is owned by the lovely J.K. Rowling.

He opened his eyes, blinking slowly, as if coming out of a trance. Was he asleep? He didn’t remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembered was a high, cold laugh and a flash of green light. He seemed to be lying on a bed, and the view of the ceiling he oft stared at in his younger years told him that he was at 12 Grimmauld Place. But what was he doing there? He had left that place a long time ago and for the life of him he could not recall why he would wake up in this bed of his dreary childhood. There were memories swimming in his head, close enough to taunt him, but just out of reach. He sighed in frustration, after a few moments of thinking hard, trying to grab hold of them. 

“Ah I see you’re awake then,” came a voice, which so startled him he almost fell off the bed. Turning towards the voice he froze. He must be hallucinating. “W..what? H..how?” he stammered, rubbing his eyes violently, convinced there was an apparition in front of him. The apparition just smiled, “No need to look so startled Siri, it’s only me.” “I know it’s you! But you’re dead, you can’t be here!” he said to the man, whose eyes, so similar to his own, were looking at Sirius with a mixture of amusement and sadness. “You don’t remember anything, do you?” he asked, and Sirius screwed up his face at the thought, because in truth, he didn’t remember much other than some vague recollections of his life. He put on a veneer of confidence and sneered, “What do I need to remember? I remember what’s important. You joined up with Voldemort and his band of buffoons. I’m glad you came to your senses and tried to leave but you should’ve known he would never let you.” 

The sad smile was back. “Yes, I did know. Which is why I did what I could to help defeat him.”

“What are you talking about?” Sirius replied sharply. In his head, he was starting to wonder if he was losing his mind. Here he was talking to his long dead brother, who was obviously not a ghost from his colouring, but most definitely had to be some sort of hallucination. He didn’t know why he was carrying on this conversation. He should have been trying to find out what spell had been used to curse him into hallucinating things and forgetting large chunks of his life, and how to reverse it. But as much as he hated to admit it, he couldn’t help but listen. He had never really known what happened to his brother. Even if he was hallucinating, he never thought he’d see his brother again. They hadn’t been on the best terms, as Regulus was determined to be the dutiful son that Sirius wouldn’t. But Sirius knew if he hadn’t had James, he could have easily turned out like Regulus. Regulus didn’t have anyone to pull him out of that life. He sympathised with his brother more than he cared to admit. And he felt a twinge of guilt when he thought of how Regulus had died without them reconciling. But he had been in Azkaban, with no way to help his brother when he defected from the death eaters. 

His brother’s reply pulled him out of his reverie.

“I know you never liked Kreacher, but he was my only companion in this house, once you left,” he started, and Sirius had the decency to look slightly ashamed. As much as he hated his parents and the path that his brother had taken, he had never hated his brother. “I couldn’t let him get away with what he did,” he continued. 

“Reggie, what in Merlin’s name are you rambling about? What does Kreacher have to do with anything? What did Kreacher do?” he asked, confused.  


“Kreacher didn’t do anything, except help me figure out the Dark Lord’s sinister plan,” he replied.  


“Oh right, it took a house elf to show you that Lord Moldypants is a murderous megalomaniac bent on eradicating an entire section of the magical community because he deemed them lesser than him. Well done, you figured it out,” Sirius quipped sarcastically.  


Regulus shot him a glare, “No you nincompoop, he showed me the horcrux that The Dark Lord made.” Sirius stilled. “ _Horcrux?_ ” he blurted out, suddenly subdued.  


“Yes. Horcrux. Murdering muggles and muggleborns wasn’t his only agenda, if you must know. He wanted to live forever, and found ways to extend his life to ensure that he would,” Regulus replied. “But how did Kreacher find out, I wasn’t aware he even knew what a horcrux was,” Sirius said, feeling a deep sense of dread come over him.  
A horcrux was incredibly dark magic. Not many knew about it. But of course, Voldemort would. Not many purebloods even knew about it, but as it turned out, the Black family library housed all sorts of dark books.  


Regulus’s voice became quiet, almost to a whisper, “Because he left Kreacher for dead at the place where he stored it. Kreacher managed to escape and he told me evrything. I made him take me to it. Kreacher didn’t know what it was that the Dark Lord had stored there, but I had my suspicions, which turned out to be founded, unfortunately.”  


“So, he figured out you found his horcrux and killed you?” Sirius asked, voice just as quiet. He had not known how his brother had died. He only knew that he was dead from trying to leave the death eaters. He recalled something then, a memory of himself saying, _“He was murdered by Voldemort. Or on Voldemort's orders, more likely. I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death."_ If what his brother was saying was true, then in fact Sirius would have been wrong. Voldemort would not want his plans getting out and it would have made Regulus become important enough to warrant Voldemort himself killing him.  


“No, he didn’t,” Regulus refuted, then paused, “Well, he didn’t know it then. Maybe he knows now.”  


“What? Well then how did you die?” Sirius asked incredulously, as his new theory on his brother’s death was also debunked.  


His brother’s eyes became haunted, as he relived the moments up to his death.  


He remembered that night like it was yesterday.  


_He had been so proud. The Dark Lord had asked him to borrow Kreacher. None the wiser to the events that would soon unfold, and eager to please him, Regulus agreed and sent Kreacher off to do his bidding. He knew he was walking a dangerous path. Regulus had started to doubt the Dark Lord’s methods. He knew it would take one look into his mind for the Dark Lord to see his apprehensions. He needed to protect himself and his family. Refusing the Dark Lord would have been a bad idea. He was happy that this was a task that could gain him favour while not having to hurt anyone.  
_

_Or, so he thought.  
_

_Several hours later, while in his room, Kreacher had appeared suddenly, pale and gasping for breath. “M...master..,” he groaned. His eyes widened in alarm, “Kreacher, what happened???” The elf didn’t seem to have the energy to respond. Regulus began to perform several healing charms on the elf. The elf fell into a fitful rest; he seemed to be doing better, though he was still shaking. “M..master Regulus...Kreacher must warn Master Regulus,” the elf mumbled in his sleep. Regulus could feel a tightening in his gut. What had the Dark Lord done to his elf?  
_

_Kreacher may have been just an elf to others, and especially purebloods who would treat him like nothing, but to Regulus, Kreacher was a friend and confidante. In the Black household there was no room for weakness, and things like love and friendship were considered weaknesses. The elf always showed him kindness that he didn’t get from his own family. He loved and respected his family but even he couldn’t say they were very close. And especially after Sirius left the burden of upholding the family values fell on his shoulders. Kreacher was the only one who he could be himself with. This was the last straw for him. He had been getting increasingly disillusioned with the idea of blood purity that his parents and The Dark Lord believed in. He wouldn’t turn on his family like Sirius had but he didn’t like the methods the Dark Lord was using. As soon as Kreacher awakened, he would have him tell him everything.  
_

Sirius had to admit, he had no fond feelings for the elf, but he felt a twinge of sympathy. Nobody deserved to be on the receiving end of Voldemort’s wicked plans. Except maybe Bellatrix. At the thought of Bellatrix, his head throbbed slightly like something was fighting to get through. But he merely shook his head and tuned back in to his brother’s story.  


_Kreacher had told Regulus exactly what happened. To say what he heard was shocking was an understatement. Kreacher hadn’t been cursed like he thought. He had just been poisoned by the potion the Dark Lord made him drink, for no other reason than to test his defences. Kreacher described being in terrible pain and seeing the most horrible visions. The Dark Lord treated his elf like a disposable object. He could not let this continue. Regulus knew what he had to do. It was sickening what the Dark Lord was doing. He had to be stopped. Regulus wasn’t stupid, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop him by himself, but he could at least hinder him, give him a handicap he would not expect.  
_

_That night, Kreacher led him to the seaside cave that he had been to with the Dark Lord. He followed through with everything the Dark Lord did. He gave his blood to access the entrance to the cave. Once inside he saw the lake that separated him from the island in the middle. He didn’t see any means of transport. He tried to summon the horcrux, but suddenly an inferius was there, jumping out of the water. When he realised it wouldn’t work he had Kreacher tell him where to find the invisible boat that the Dark Lord used. They got on and sailed across to the island. He made sure he didn’t touch the water, now that he knew there were inferi in there.  
_

_Once on the island, he saw the bowl with the potion. The locket lay gleaming inside, seemingly innocent. But that was a cursed piece of jewellery. Tainted by the worst kind of magic. He knew Kreacher had said magic didn’t work on it but he tried anyway. The potion didn’t budge. He gave Kreacher the locket he had prepared to take the place of the other. He made him promise to take the horcrux and destroy it and not to mention any of that day’s incidents to anyone.  
_

Throughout the story, the feeling of dread in Sirius’s stomach kept increasing, as his brother told the tale of his last day on earth. It suddenly hit him then, what happened.  


“You drank the potion,” he said hoarsely.  


Regulus nodded.  


“Why?” Sirius asked, suddenly angry, “Why didn’t you let the elf drink it? You could have lived! You could have survived and helped fight against him. Dumbledore created the Order of the Phoenix to fight against Voldemort. You could have joined, provided valuable information. Why would you choose to die instead??!!” He wanted to grab his brother and shake him.  


Regulus looked slightly alarmed at his reaction. “I am no murderer, Sirius,” he said softly.  


Sirius didn’t look placated but he quieted down at that, though his face showed he was still unhappy about it. Sirius would have sacrificed Kreacher without a thought, Regulus knew. Sirius had never liked the elf. But he was not Sirius.  


The tension in the room was palpable. Sirius looked at his brother. The brother who had never doubted the things his parents taught him until it was too late. The brother who he never got to bury. At least James had a grave. The thought of it made his anger drain out of him, to be replaced by a sorrow he had never allowed himself to feel. “So, your body is still in that cave then?” Sirius asked quietly. Regulus nodded sadly.  


_He remembered as he drank the potion, the horrible things he heard and saw. He had been in so much pain, and so, so thirsty. The only thing he could do was try to get to the lake for water. But in his addled state, he forgot about the inferi, who pulled him down into the watery depths, where he assumed his body still lay.  
_

Sirius felt his heart clench. The story of his brother’s death was not what he expected. He had never really questioned it. But now that he knew what really happened (for he had the feeling that this story was true, even if he was hallucinating) he felt his throat close up, choked with an emotion he could not quite describe. When James had died, he was maddeningly distraught, but also inflamed with anger at Peter’s betrayal. It was a loud, explosive sort of sorrow. This time he felt differently, a sorrow that went deep inside him instead. It took him a moment to realise his brother was talking.  


“I do not know if Kreacher ever managed to destroy the locket. I hope for everyone’s sake, that he has,” Regulus stated, unaware of the despair clinging to his brother. Sirius did too, when considering the fact that his brother gave his life for it.  


His head started to throb again, and suddenly he jumped off the bed, startling Regulus. “Harry! I have to warn Harry,” Sirius exclaimed. In case Kreacher didn’t destroy the locket. In case Voldemort had more horcruxes made. Harry needed to know the kind of danger they were in. Dumbledore too. The war would be lost if they couldn’t kill Voldemort. This was too important. He couldn’t apparate to Hogwarts so he ran out the door, intending to summon the Knight Bus.  


“Sirius, wait!” Regulus called, running behind him. “There’s no time,” he shouted back, finally making his way through the house and out the front door.  


But where there should have been the front of his house, the road, the rest of the muggle houses on the street, there was a river. One lone boat sat on his front steps. He couldn’t see the end of the river, it stretched further out into the distance than his eyes could make out.  


He was panting from his run, but turned to his brother, who had caught up with him.  


“Reggie, what’s going on? What is this?” he asked. And finally the questions he should have been asking all along were starting to surface. Where was he? He could have sworn he was hallucinating or dreaming but it was starting to feel too vivid to be merely a dream. Did someone trap him in an illusion?  


Regulus just looked at him, with that mournful expression.  


“Dammit I don’t have time for this! I need to warn the order,” he almost shouted.  


“Think, Sirius. Why am I here? Why can you see me? You know I am not a ghost,” Regulus said softly.  


And Sirius did know. But his head was starting to throb again. The only thing recurring now in his mind was the flash of green light. He sank down to the floor, and leaned against the wall, holding his head in his hands. It hit him like the whomping willow. The high, cackling laugh of his cousin as she threw the killing curse at him. That’s what the green light had been. He had been at the Department of Mysteries with the order, fighting off death eaters and trying to save Harry and the others.  


“I...I’m dead?” he murmured. Regulus’s expression told him all he needed to know. “I can’t be dead!” he shouted suddenly, “I have to protect Harry! I have to warn them how can I do that if I’m dead?” He thought of Harry. Thought of the boy who had lost not only his parents but now his godfather. His chest tightened as he sobbed. Regulus sat beside him, and for the first time since he was 13, he pulled his brother into a hug.  


“Believe me when I say I know the feeling,” Regulus stated quietly. He sat with Sirius until the sobs subsided.  


“We can’t stay here Sirius, they sent me here to bring you back,” he muttered. “What? Who?” Sirius asked, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ll find out soon enough,” Regulus replied, “We just need to get on that boat.”  


Sirius didn’t even question it this time. His brother had more experience being dead than he did. He followed him into the boat without protest. After all, what did it matter what happened now? He was already dead. He was already useless to the one who needed him most.  


He didn’t know that Regulus wouldn’t be the only brother he was reunited with. He didn’t know that the boy he cared for like his own would get to see him once again, as he walked towards his own death. And he most certainly didn’t know that a little boy would be named in his honour, many, many years later.


End file.
